#(i still go there like i go here but sometimes just for that purpose)

[r0manceplanet]

i have one request. taph x reader idc what u do as long as its fluff please us taph likers are actually drying out like the sahara desert 😭😭

Taph General Headcanons

A/N: Omg how I ran FAST just to start writing this— and you are so right, taph needs more content (coming from a taph main, me lol), and i am here to feed more taph content, feel free to send me more taph requests ngl.

NOTE: this can be seen as romantic or platonic, and as usual the reader remains gender neutral unless stated otherwise.

• Being with him, whether it’s together as friends or partners, no matter what kind of relationship you have with him he’ll always find ways to prank you using his tools.

• He also seems to come up with very… clever ideas on how to catch the killer using his bombs and trip-lines (whatever those are called)… he’s made c00lkidd cry far too many times because of the bombs he keeps throwing at him (save the killers atp).

• He views you like how he views builderman, and as we all know he calls himself “buildermans right hand man” because he’s usually on standby with him, but because he’s parasocial that doesn’t really exist. But with you, he’s always standing next to you and helping you with whatever you need, it’s his way of showing his gratitude towards you.

• He can’t talk at all, so he uses sign language to communicate instead, and even if you don’t know sign language you’ll be able to quickly understand after getting to know he basics of it, and if you don’t understand it (still) I would head-canon that he carries a tiny notebook and pen around him to write as a way to communicate better.

• He’s a cocky little shit ngl, everytime he pranks you or teases you, you can clearly see under his hoodie that little, michevious smirk and continues to go on until you stop him, I also think he would enjoy carrying you skeins sometimes for fun, like bridle style or piggy back and run while doing so, and maybe pretend to fall just to startle you.

• For some random reason (this may be ooc idk) but he LOVES to hold you close and put his cloak around the both of you, I don’t know exactly the reason why he does it but I feel like it’s because he enjoys the feeling of having someone close be so close to him, and he loves to lay his head down on your shoulder and fall asleep if you both are sitting on the couch or laying on the bed together.

• I feel like the hoodie he wears was worn way to many times now, and he doesn’t wash it (and I’m guessing he can’t because of the situation he’s in) so I feel like, if you can sew, you can make him new hoodies in different colors and styles to see how they look on him, and he wouldn’t mind you putting on a few accessories on him, but DO NOT put any makeup or skin care products on his face, he doesn’t like the feeling of it (I would just force him if it’s necessary ngl).

• He would purposely use you as bait to the killers so they can fall into his traps, and then save you after, he likes saving you, especially if you lecture him afterwards lol he doesn’t give any craps whatsoever. And just to add on but, without you knowing he stalks you when he’s not around you, and he makes sure not to get caught by you, even if your friends he would definitely have this little crush on you, and even after your dating he still does this, but he just needs to make sure your being protected by him at all costs! Even if he’s not around…

• I also feel like he enjoys dancing to music, it can be hiphop, slow dancing, kpop, and he’ll DO IT. He would be a super talented dancer, and loves doing little dances whenever he traps one of the killers with his shenanigans. (He stans girl groups, tell me I’m wrong).

[sereia4skz]

Hey Sereia!

Hope you're doing well. Sorry it took me so long to talk, unfortunately my luggage almost got lost. But don't worry it got here intact three entire days later. They apparently shipped it off to France accidentally.

I didn't realise it first how chaotic it could get living with eight boys. But it's okay! It almost feels like I'm just with my pets. Lee Know reminds me a lot of Aster (my cat) and loves head scratches. He's made a habit of falling asleep on me in the afternoons. I do hope that Aster and Sirius (my dog) aren't giving you much trouble.

The pack leader, Chan, was quite apprehensive of me at first, but quickly warmed up to me once he saw how much the others seemed to love my presence. Actually, he's the one who gave me his clothes to wear when my luggage wasn't here yet. Although I'm fine in rooming with Felix, he insists that I spend the nights with him. After the first night I started to room with him and now every morning I wake up with small hickeys on my neck. Lately, he's gotten bolder and pulls me into him when I'm in the kitchen, sometimes even leaving a dark hickey. And he doesn't even care if anybody's watching or not! God, it leaves me all flustered and red in the face. He's also taken to whispering the dirtiest of things in my ear during movie nights when he snuggles into me. I really don't know how I'm supposed to resist him when he's so good looking and makes me wanna jump him. Should I just give in to the temptation?

With love, Maddy xoxo

1k Followers Event | no need to even go for it

pairing: wolf!Chan x reader

genre: smut

warnings: public sex (only Felix notices), voyeurism (Felix), unprotected sex, Chan cums inside, dirty talking

event masterlist: #1kShootingStars

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Hey Maddy!

Glad you're enjoying your time with the boys! Aster and Sirius are doing good, don't worry about them and enjoy yourself.

Shame about your luggage, quite odd this careful leader of theirs, offering his stuff  and wanting to share a room. Although I think you could give it a try. Maybe he'll even come to you?

What's the worst that could happen?

Love, Reia

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Chan had insisted the pack take you to Changbin's parents' beach house. Saying it was a must to visit Jeju for anyone visiting Korea. 

Felix had offered to let you stay in his room but his leader had dismissed the idea quickly, insisting that the boy needed some rest after the endless sleepovers that had taken place in the cabin. It was a wonder he even found out about them, since all the boys seem to mischievously hide their shenanigans from the eldest.

Chan had been growing bolder with his advances, whispering dirty, filthy things in your ears, smirking as Felix asks why you've flushed red. So here you are sitting, in his shirt, on the shared bed looking into the vanity, observing the bruises that littered your neck. 

"Y/N!" Felix's voice calls from the living room, you paddle your way finding the boys all cuddled up on the couch, "Movie night", the boy grins at you. 

"You can sit here." Chan's voice rings true, almost like a demand and not a suggestion, patting the spot next to him. 

You don't hesitate, not when he's looking at you like he's going to devour you. You plop next to him, almost immediately surrounded by his warmth as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you between his legs, back against his chest. His warmth wraps around you like a second skin, the cotton of his shirt soft against your body but doing little to shield you from the way his presence burns.

"Still sore from earlier?" he murmurs into your ear, his breath warm, his voice just for you. You tense, heat flooding your face. "You're so easy to mess with,"his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "That pretty little blush gives you away every time."

His hand move with purpose, fingers brushing slow circles along your inner thigh, grazing just close enough to make your muscles tighten. You shift, just slightly. His lips brush your temple.

“Don’t squirm, sweetheart,” he whispers, low enough that only you could hear. “You’ll give us away.”

Your breath catches, and your spine straightens slightly, trying to pretend everything is normal. That his hand isn’t inching higher beneath the blanket. That your thighs aren't already damp with anticipation. That Felix, only a cushion away, wasn’t occasionally glancing in your direction with wide, curious eyes.

Chan’s fingers dip between your legs, featherlight. You jerk softly, a quiet gasp slipping through your lips. His fingers pause, stroking the crease where your thigh met your core.

“Wet already?” His voice honeyed filth. “Fuck… I barely touched you.”

You bit your lip, nodding once. His smirk pressed to your jaw, the kind of smile he wore when he had complete control.

“I’m going to stretch you for me, now,” he murmurs, hand finally slipping beneath your underwear. “Right here, while they’re all watching the movie. You won’t make a sound… mkay?”

You barely shake your head before he presses a single finger inside, slow, deliberate, testing the stretch. You clench instinctively, a soft whimper barely stifled against your teeth.

“Good girl,” he breathes, the praise molten in your ears. “So tight already.”

He works you open with practiced ease, fingers curling, scissoring, stroking that spot that made your thighs tremble. Every time you flinch or whimper, he kisses your neck, humming against your skin like it soothed the ache he was creating. The wet sounds of his fingers thrusting slowly into you hidden beneath the soft rustle of the blanket and the TV’s audio, but it felt so obvious, so obscene.

Your hips rock involuntarily, and he rewards you by pressing a second finger inside. You bite down on the inside of your cheek, hard. Your hand grips the blanket like it might anchor you.

Then his fingers slip out.

You turn slightly to look at him, wide-eyed, confused, until you feel it. The press of him against your entrance, thick and hot through the cotton of his sweats, already freed beneath the blanket. Your breath hitches.

He leans down, mouth against your ear again. “Going to put it in now, baby. Stay quiet for me.”

He pushes into you slowly, his cock stretching you open so gradually that your thighs shook with restraint. Your eyes wander trying to focus on keeping quiet, you look upon, eyes falling on Felix. Just as you make eye contact, Chan bottoms out, buried deep, he groans against your neck, the sound low and rough.

“Fuck, you feel perfect. Always do.”

He doesn't move. Not right away. He just stays inside you, holding you tight, as if letting you feel every pulse of him nestled in your walls. Your body clenches helplessly around him, and his hand grips your waist.

“You’re squeezing me,” he chuckles darkly. “Don’t get greedy now.”

You feel lightheaded with the effort of staying still. Staying quiet. Eyes wide focused on Felix.

His gaze had drifted from the screen, attention landing on your face. You didn’t know what he saw, your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your eyes glazed over, but his own face had bloomed red. He swallows visibly. His hand twitches toward his mouth, like he might hide a smile. And he didn’t look away.

Chan saw it. You knew he did. He shifts inside you, slow and deep, dragging against every sensitive inch. You make a noise, something between a gasp and a whimper, and Felix’s eyes widen just slightly.

“Good girl,” Chan growls softly, quiet enough that only you could hear. "Let him see me fucking his precious little friend."

You clench around him again, body betraying you. Chan bites down on your shoulder, just enough to make you jolt. “You like this, don’t you?” he whispers, voice thick. “Getting fucked with your little friend watching. You want to show him how pretty you are when I fuck you dumb?”

Your body answered before you could. He begins to move, slow and shallow, just enough to make you feel everything, but not enough to draw attention from the rest of the room. His rhythm, maddening, measured, intentional.

You're dripping, soaked around him, his cock dragging lazy thrusts as if he had all the time in the world to ruin you.

"Keep watching the movie," he teases darkly. "Unless you want them all to notice how good I’m fucking you."

You shake, trembling in his lap as your orgasm crept up, but he didn’t let you fall. Held you right at the edge. His hand reaches under the blanket again, thumb circling your clit just once, maybe twice, and you nearly come undone. You buckle slightly and moan into your hand, barely stifling the sound. Chan stilled.

“Too loud,” he warns with a growl, his cock twitching inside you. “Be good, go ahead.”

You nod, panting quietly through your nose, sweat beading at your temples. Your legs tremble.

Then he cums, sudden and hot, filling you with a groan buried into the crook of your neck. He didn’t pull out. Just held you tight, his cock buried deep, inside your soaked walls clenching around him.

“Fuck,” he exhaled. “Stay just like this.”

You melt against him, fucked-out and still full, his cum seeping slowly onto the couch. God, Minho was going to be so pissed about the couch.

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taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o

[wrathofrats]

Mushy May Day 6: bitching/gossip session

1.4k, mostly sfw but sexual jokes, prompts by @forlorn-crows !

Read under cut or find all my mushy may on ao3!

Mist, pebble, rain and Aurora have gossip sessions whenever something happens, here’s one of those times.

Warnings for: ghoul slander (omega, alpha, dew, aether, phantom but it’s 90% omega), all jokes and for laughs they all love each other they’re just complaining, jokes made about terzo, copia catches a stray here, they’re all assholes LMAOOO

“Maybe if he wasn’t up his boyfriends fucking ass all the time then he would get shit done! But noooo!!!! I have to fucking clean secondos chapel! Again!” Pebble threw a drink of his beer back, making a purposeful point to hit his head on the cloth back of the patio chair for dramatic effect. The door behind him opened, rain and Aurora raising a box of shitty wine coolers as a peace offering.

“The fuck happened this time?” Rain handed a pink one to Aurora before flopping down across from mist, grabbing a blue one for himself.

“Pebble had to mop secondos chapel because alpha forgot, and subsequently blamed it on him.” Mist had a smile tugging at her lips, trying not to show that she found the situation particularly amusing.

It was probably pebbles fault anyways. She heard about the incident where he dumped dirt in his and omegas bed after he told alpha to stop calling him dirt boy. Probably deserved but still dramatic, so shoot her if she’s not surprised alpha got him back.

“And god fucking forbid I do anything about it because he’s got magic mike dicking him down every night which means now he’s a protected species” rain choked on his drink at pebble calling omega magic mike. Pebbles never liked him anyways, though rain and Aurora barely see him unless they’re sick, or that one time aether set him up for the weirdest medical kink thing you’ve seen in your life. His skeleton to keep in his closet he guesses. But rain knows that’s why alpha stopped coming to their sessions, couldn’t handle the fact that pebble hates omega.

“Better than when Terzo was his boy toy” mist popped open another beer for herself, haphazardly throwing her bottle into the recycling bin with a loud clink.

“There’s no way. Those two were madly in love. You can’t tell me that didn’t make Terzo the best papa ever” Aurora kicked her feet up into pebbles lap

“Oh he was! Not his fault omega was fucking him for that infirmary promotion. Now the big guy is still practically second in charge around here. Guess it’s worth cheating on your boyfriend if your boyfriends head over heels for you anyways and will take you back after”

“Jesus pebble” rain laughed. The night air was still hot, they all preferred their bitching sessions during the summer because it was definitely harder to not be disturbed in someone’s room, though it usually ended in a sleep over which was nice.

“Their relationship isn’t that bad” mist rolled her eyes “you just hate when other people are happy”

“God forbid!”

“No pebbles got a point. Omega gives me quint lessons sometimes when aethers busy and the guy acts like he’s going to have a heart attack if you use it for anything besides ministry stuff. People hate when women are allowed a little mind control. As a treat.” Aurora downed the last of her almost neon pink beverage. Something strawberry watermelon that made her throat burn a bit, though it never stopped her from grabbing a second one. The words flowed a bit better with some help.

“Does he know what the hell aethers been doing with it then?” Rain asked

“Probably not, unless he taught him. You can’t convince me omega isn’t a secret freak like the rest of us” Aurora shot back.

“Oh I know he is. I’ve heard shit”

Mist and pebble stared at rain for a moment, filing the sly smile away for a different time when they wanted to ask for more details. Rain was always the type to kiss and tell, pebble knew more about dews dick than he probably did his own.

“Probably how he got alpha to come back to him if we are being honest”

“Or maybe alphas in love with him and you’re mad alpha won’t bend you over the kitchen counter when you’re attention starved like he used to” mist stared up at awning above them while rain and Aurora giggled.

“Excuse you, I don’t need alpha, I have my own twink to bend over the kitchen counter when I’m attention starved. Thank you very much.”

“Pebble has a point.” Rain rocked slowly in his chair, finishing off his second drink as well, “Omega loves to act high and mighty as if he’s never done anything wrong in his life. Shits annoying. I see where aether gets it”

“You love aether dumbass. Be nice” Aurora flicked him

“You’re right I do love aether which is why I’m not afraid to admit that daddy nameless ghoul as a bit of an authority complex”

“Rain anytime you want head lemme know” pebble laughed

“Let me get through like two more of these” rain shook his drink at him

Mist made a disgusted face at them as if she isn’t having pebble do the same thing afterwards, or wouldn’t offer it to rain as well. Maybe she would take Aurora this time. Same as rain it depended on the amount of beers she got through, three and counting so far.

“Didn’t omega lock that guy in a tower after his element went wrong?”

“Yeah. Fucking asshole. Like ok raise your hand if you’ve seen delta recently since you wanna play who owns the tallest horse”

“I’m going to pluck every one of your hairs out one by one if you don’t start speaking normally” mist groaned as if she truly even thought that was possible. “He’s barely even in charge, do we have to listen to him? I thought wet cat guy that loved mice ruled over us now. Omega just likes to dick measure”

“It’s rats actually” Aurora corrected, “and yeah but copia is harmless. He can and will fold to whatever omega says, hell he listens to dew of all ghouls”

“And what’s wrong with that” rain cocked an eyebrow

“Your boyfriend is a hothead twink who likes to be called a girl until he cries. Not my fault I don’t take him seriously”

“Considering what I heard the other night when I was forced to sleep in mountains room I’d say you take him plenty seriously”

Aurora rolled her eyes and sunk into her flannel she stole from Swiss, a blush rising to her cheeks as rain and pebble snickered. Friendly fire, there was an unspoken rule that anything said in this group stayed in it, and was most of the time exaggerated for effect.

“Could be worse, could be taking orders from phantom” Aurora mumbled

“What’s wrong with him? Kid seems nice” pebble furrowed his brow.

“He’s harmless! Just ….”

“Immature. Maybe a different word that starts with A. He’s fine, just not one I’d give any power to. Unless he asked nicely that is” rain smiled, chair squeaking as he leaned further back and wrapped his arms around himself with a smug look.

“Omega seems happy with him. Called him a prodigy or something. Never saw that happen with aether. Though alpha seems to also not be fond of him but that’s probably because his boyfriends got him wrapped around his dick during lessons” pebble looked over at mist as if he was trying to get some confirmation. A couple times where they’d pass by his office and hear strange noises they knew couldn’t be alpha.

“You can’t talk, you did the same shit with earth. And Ivy did the same thing with you” mist scoffed “besides, omega can fuck who he wants”

“Omega has well past proven he can fuck who he wants. Just don’t think it’s a great look to use the new guy like a fleshlight after begging your mate to take you back since your first choice died” pebble rolled his eyes “but what do I know. Im just here to get fucked over the kitchen counter”

“Fair. Maybe if phantoms good enough we can have an elemental transition without disaster this time” mist sneered. She was still upset about what happened to dew, but whatever, as long as he was happy.

“I wouldn’t trust him with that. He can’t even microwave a hot pocket. But god it’s refreshing to not have a know it all quint around” rain tossed his bottle into the recycling, standing up to tap pebble on the shoulder so he would follow

“Are you just mad aether can mind control your boyfriend and you can’t?” Aurora looked at him like she was shocked he was taking pebble up on his offer

“Maybe”

[delicateperspective]

I’m a newish fan (2023) and therefore new to these types of pr relationships. What can we expect? I saw posts saying L was in Essex this weekend so clearly “meeting her parents” and to expect a tabloid spectacle. I can’t wrap my head around bringing family into this? I am assuming this also happened with previous relationships but honestly how do they do this? Is there a formula that they follow and how will know it’s going to end? I’m so tired of it already. Thanks so much for taking the time to answer new fan questions.

hey anon! thank you so much for such a thoughtful and open message — seriously, it makes me so happy when people ask questions like this with genuine curiosity, because i know how overwhelming and weird all of this can feel at first.

so yes, you're absolutely right, bringing family into pr relationships is super common, and honestly it’s often done on purpose for exactly the reason you mentioned: because people go “why would they involve their families unless it’s real?” and that’s exactly what the teams want. it’s the easiest way to make things feel serious and believable, especially when the relationship itself doesn’t have a lot of natural chemistry or history to lean on.

there is definitely a pattern or formula that most of these pr relationships follow — although there are always variables that make each one slightly different. but here’s a general idea of how they usually go.

the basic PR stunt formula:

seeding phase typically looks like some or all of the below: mutual friends start posting about both people one is seen in the background of the other’s photo (Z's pancake photo with L's arm in the back looks oddly JUST like the picture H posted of L on their couch with just El's legs being visable before El was confirmed) names start appearing together in articles soft connections are made to get people asking questions

then a confirmation: usually a “source” tells The Sun (louis’ team fave) or People (harry’s team fave) that they’re “dating”. it’s always vague, soft-launch-y, and unconfirmed by the artist themselves.

pap walks + family involvement start: the couple is “spotted” on walks, at cafes, on vacation families start to follow each other on social media they’re photographed at family homes, visiting parents, etc. this is the “it’s serious!” phase, meant to sell longevity and legitimacy

public event tie-ins start: the “partner” is seen at concerts or album release parties articles drop about how “supportive they are of each other” this often lines up with promo cycles (album releases, tour announcements, etc.)

then a quiet fade or dramatic exit: either they slowly stop being seen together and it fizzles or there’s a breakup article to wrap it up

how do we know when it will end? that’s the one part we can’t predict. sometimes we can guess based on promo timelines or industry context (like the rumored sony/itv merger 👀), but unless we know the contract details, we can’t know for sure. what we can usually tell is when the momentum starts to shift — like when the tabloid drops slow down, the pap walks stop, or the families quietly unfollow. but again, it’s not always clean or predictable. sometimes things get extended, like olivia due to covid, or babygate because… well. chaos.

if you’re tired? that’s okay. seriously — it’s so okay to take breaks. this stuff can be exhausting, especially when it feels like the same story being recycled with new names. you don’t have to be hyper-aware of every detail to still love and support harry and louis. step away when you need to. come back when you’re ready.

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2023 Day 28: Kabukimono x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7362

Warnings: Afab!reader, mommy kink, infantilization/baby play, breastfeeding, nursing handjob, mentioned breeding

A/N: A very lovely reader was asking me about this fic so I said I'd go ahead and preemptively post it here on Tumblr. There are a few days still missing before this one so I'm going to hold off on adding it to the collection on AO3 just to make sure it doesn't mess up the chapter order or anything. But other than that ... please enjoy! 🫶

⭐

It’s incredibly easy to forget what he is sometimes. 

A puppet so lifelike and so beautiful in its perfection that you find yourself thinking of him as human more often than not. This should probably disconcert you more than it does, or at the very least it should tickle something in the back of your mind that stands at attention and warns of danger found only in the uncanny. That which is just ever so slightly off. Such a farcical impression of human life can only mean trouble brewing not far off on the horizon, after all. Maybe not today or perhaps not even tomorrow, but some day the wrath of the gods would stand at your doorstep and demand what had been taken from them. 

But Kabukimono’s smile is so sweet and unassuming when you open the door that you think absolutely nothing of it. You invite the blessed doll into your home. Accept the basket of lavender melons he offers with a word of thanks and a gracious bow. Showing him to the dining room of your humble home, you announce his arrival to your older sister who looks up from the swaddled bundle in her arms. She, too, seems not to give it a second thought and greets him with neither hesitation or wariness to edge her tone. 

Everyone in the village knew what he was, what his presence might mean for the future of Tatarasuna and all who inhabit it. But looking at him now as he bends to get a closer look at the baby, you wonder how any one of you could ever truly distrust someone as sincere and endearingly inquisitive as this. There’s a love, an appreciation for life in his deep, rich blue eyes that only seems to spark and glitter all the more while he takes in the tiny upturned face of your niece. An innate respect for the existence of mere mortals, even so pale and drab in comparison to his own, that further softens his already kindhearted expression. 

You wonder, not for the first time, what purpose he had been created for. What role he was meant to fill. You could only speculate that it had not been for the purpose of child rearing, but the way he regards your sister's daughter like he’s never seen anything more precious or worth protecting assures you he would be exceptionally good at it all the same. 

“I’ll go put these away.” You announce to the room, jostling the basket in your hands for emphasis. 

“You didn’t have to bring us a gift to come visit, Kabukimono.” Your sister tells him gently. “You’re welcome to stop by any time.” 

He gives his head a brief shake, that serene smile as eternal as it is unwavering. “Niwa told me it’s customary to bring congratulatory offerings after a new member of the family has been born, and I wanted to respect that tradition. It was my pleasure.” 

Your sister laughs softly in response as you inch towards the door and ask, “Would everyone like a cup of tea while I’m in the kitchen?” 

You receive two affirmatives and a wet gurgle in answer, and a smile curves your lips as you step out into the hall. Crossing over into the kitchen, you quickly store the lavender melons away in the neatly organized pantry then set to work preparing the kettle to boil. You’re halfway through the process of arranging three sets of cupware on a small wooden tray when a faint whimper rises up in the next room over. It doesn’t take long to escalate to a full blown wail as your sister's voice joins in, quietly coaxing and cooing in tender soft tones. It sounds like your niece is having none of it though, and you internally wince at the idea of poor Kabukimono stuck in the epicenter of all that racket but being too polite to excuse himself from it. You should probably go rescue him. 

Dropping everything, you hurry back across the hall only to stop dead in the threshold. The puppets expression, usually unfalteringly kind and patient, has morphed into one of abject confusion as he watches your sister offer her breast to the screaming baby in her arms. That tiny mouth latches on and starts to suckle, quieting plaintive wails, but you can’t seem to tear your startled gaze away from Kabukimono. His lack of understanding is clear, and it suddenly has all of your attention. You’ve never seen someone look so jarringly perplexed over a feeding infant before. 

Your sister glances up then, as if only just realizing in her instinctive reaction to the baby’s cries that she hadn’t stopped long enough to consider the comfort or sensibilities of your houseguest. She pauses at the odd look on his face though, and you rush to intervene for the sake of both parties as much as your own. 

“Sorry to interrupt. Would you mind helping me in the kitchen with something?” 

With an almost mechanical slowness, he turns his head to glance up at you. A shiver promptly races down your spine, and you blindly reach out to grasp the edge of the doorway. Not once in all the time you’d known him had he ever left you feeling so uneasy and discomfited with just a glance. 

“Kabukimono?” 

He appears to snap out of it at the sound of his name. Pretty eyes going big with surprise, he quickly moves to stand up. “Yes, of course. My apologies. I must not have heard you the first time.” 

You don’t think that’s what it is. In fact, you’re sure of it as he crosses the room and steps out into the hallway, but you don’t say anything until you’re both standing in the kitchen where there are two sets of walls separating you from your sister's keen hearing. For good measure, you even quietly shut the door. 

Taking a moment to choose your words with care and consideration, you start to prepare a small plate of rice crackers to accompany the tea. “She’s cute, isn’t she?” 

“Yes, she is.”

“Have you spent much time around babies?” 

He hesitates behind you. “None, in fact. Of course I’ve met some of the younger children in the village but not …”

“None as young as that?” You helpfully supply. 

Kabukimono breathes out a soft, disheartened sigh. “That is correct. I’m sorry. I should have known better than to stare like that. It was — rude of me, wasn’t it?”

“It’s nothing to apologize for.” You get it. Really, you did. But where were you even supposed to begin explaining such a thing to a divinely created puppet if even his own maker hadn’t had the talk about the birds and the bees with him? It’s not as if you were an expert on the topic either … but it was obvious you still knew more than him, and the unmitigated fascination on his face had been plain as day. Almost painfully so. If Niwa had been there you would have simply deferred all responsibility to him but you decidedly hated the thought of explaining what had happened to him even more than you did talking to Kabukimono about it directly. 

Still, that didn’t exactly give you a solid starting point to work off of. 

“Maybe I should just go.” 

You whip your head around to look over your shoulder at him, noting the abashed pinch of his expression. Still so beautiful but clearly ashamed of his own actions even though he really had no reason to be. Or at least you didn’t think he did. “That’s not necessary, Kabukimono. I’m just not sure how to explain something like this. Does Niwa ever get stumped with anything?” 

He cautiously lifts his gaze to regard you with such a hopeful, searching gleam in his eyes that you feel your heart give a sudden wrench in response. “He does, sometimes. Is it really something so complicated though?” 

“Complicated isn’t what I would call it.” You try to laugh it off, turning back to put the finishing touches on the arrangement of snacks. Keeping your hands busy should help you get through the next few minutes relatively unscathed, or so you hoped at least. “Let’s see … I guess I should start by saying that babies under a certain age can’t digest anything other than their mothers milk, so that’s how they need to be fed. I promise you’ll see it often if you start spending more time around newborns. Until they’re older that’s just the way of things.” 

He hums a soft sound of acknowledgment as if he were actively fitting the pieces together in his mind, and that serves to embolden you somewhat. Knowing that he was listening to what you had to say and further applying it to the rest of his baseline knowledge of humans was oddly validating, like you were helping him in some way. You liked helping people. 

You also liked Kabukimono, even if you were loath to admit it out loud. Although he’d thrown you off for a moment there, any sign or trace of that stark uncertainty seemed completely gone now. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know these things. It also technically wasn’t your responsibility to educate him on such matters but you were glad for the excuse to talk with him like this. No one could say for sure how long he’d be able to stay in the village, after all, and these opportunities didn’t present themselves every day. 

So you tell him everything you know about the topic. Which admittedly isn’t much, just this or that which your sister and the other girls in Tatarasuna had told you, but he seems to hang off every word. The pot over the fire starts to boil in that time and you finish preparing the tea before handing him the tray to carry while you take the one with the crackers. Together, the two of you make your way back to the dining room where you’re surprised to find your sister quietly gathering her things. 

“Sorry,” She murmurs, sending you an apologetic look. “The baby fell asleep so I should probably put her to bed and run down to the market while I can. I should be back before she wakes up.” 

“That’s alright, take your time.” You give her a quick smile. “I’ll take care of everything here while you’re gone.” 

“Thank you.” Her gaze drifts to Kabukimono and, like you, she seems to realize he’s back to his usual self again. The subtle tension in her shoulders slips away to leave her as relaxed and unbothered by his presence as she always was. “Forgive me for not staying for tea and for … earlier, as well. I’m so used to being around family and close friends when she needs to be fed that I didn’t even stop to think first.” 

The puppet shakes his head. “Please don’t give it another thought. I’m the one who should be apologizing for my rudeness. I’m still learning these things but your sister has already explained how it works so I have a much better understanding now. I assure you it won’t happen again.” 

Your cheeks warm slightly when she sends you an unreadable look but, thankfully, she decides to save any commentary for later. All she does is nod her head in acknowledgment before shuffling off to put your niece down for her afternoon nap. 

While she gets the baby situated in the quiet bedroom in the back of the house you and Kabukimono set the trays down and get seated at the table. She stops on her way out to say goodbye and a moment later you hear the front door slide shut behind her. Left alone with him, you reach out to take your steaming mug and give your hands something to do. It wasn’t that he made you nervous, you just weren’t always sure what to say to someone who you knew was neither human nor of mortal construct. What did the gods usually converse about, you wondered. 

He doesn’t seem to know what to say either and for a long stretch the both of you just sit there, not speaking and not looking at each other. If it had been just about anyone else you were sure you wouldn’t be having this problem right now but try as you might you just couldn’t quite come up with an appropriate conversation topic. Would he want to continue the discussion from earlier or was it time to talk about something else? 

Much to your relief he eventually clears his throat with a polite cough and makes the decision for you. “May I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” You turn, giving him your full attention.

Kabukimono does the same, evidently more interested in whatever was on his mind than the tea or the rice crackers, as he’d touched neither of them yet. “What we were talking about before … does it hurt?” 

Your brows lift in genuine surprise. How were you possibly supposed to answer that? “I’m not so sure myself, since I’ve never had to do it, but I don’t think it does. Not usually, anyway.” 

He tips his head in question, and you scramble to piece what knowledge you had at your disposal into an articulate explanation. You probably should have anticipated this on some level though. His curiosity seemed to know no bounds but it was usually aimed at Niwa and you didn’t have as many ready answers as you would have liked. 

“What I mean is — based on what I’ve heard, it can hurt if the baby’s teeth have come in and they bite you. I think it can also be uncomfortable if the milk gets backed up but I don’t believe the feeding itself causes any pain.” 

“I see.” He murmurs, glancing down at his lap now. A stretch of quiet falls over the room and it seems to last for a rather long time before he finally draws another stilted breath. “Is it wrong of me to ask questions like this?” 

“No.” You don’t even hesitate. “If there’s something you don’t know then it’s normal to ask about it and learning is a good thing. It’s only natural to be curious.” 

Kabukimono brings his head up then. “Natural?” He echoes you, the look on his face making your chest give another harrowing wrench. You aren’t sure what to call it exactly but he looks at you almost like someone who has found hope in his lost existence. It disconcerts you a little bit, though not as much as the way he’d looked at your sister and the baby. This was different somehow. 

It seemed less startled and more … reverential, in a way.

You have to swallow your nerves before you can speak again. “Do you have a mother, Kabukimono?” 

His expression shutters slightly and he glances away as if you’d struck a nerve. “In a sense, I suppose. I have my creator, of course, although I never met her.” 

“Not even once?” You can’t quite keep the sadness out of your voice and it only becomes even more pronounced when he gives his head a solemn shake. “I’m so sorry. That’s awful. No wonder you don’t know anything at all about this sort of thing.” 

He sends you a slow, considering look before shyly scooting closer to the corner of the table. Closer to you. 

You can see the hesitance in his shoulders but that bright flash of interest is still clear as day in his eyes, and it makes your breath hitch. It’s impossible to predict what he’ll say next when everything about this discussion was so resoundingly unexpected, but somehow what he does finally say turns out to be the very last thing you could have ever guessed to come out of his mouth. 

“I think I’d like to learn, if you would be willing to … humor me for a little while?”

Your stomach drops like a lead weight. “I … I can’t make milk.” You feel like an idiot saying it but it’s the first semi coherent thing that formulates on your tongue. He almost seems to pout even as he nudges himself just a pinch closer, slowly inching around the table. 

“That’s alright. Human milk wouldn’t do anything for me anyway, right?” 

You numbly turn that over in your head for a moment before realizing that that was hardly the most pressing issue at hand here. What he was asking you for … 

“Kabukimono, do you … do you want me to play mommy with you?” 

He doesn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed or a little bit sheepish about it, which was the exact inverse of your own reaction. You could feel your face growing unbearably warm and your palms start to get clammy, but all he does is give you an affirmative nod. No hesitation, no shame. Just a deep, intrinsic compulsion. You might even call it a yearning, the way he just stares at you with such a hopeful gleam sparkling across the blue of his irises. It was too much. 

Your resolve could never hope to stand up against that look no matter how awkward and self-conscious such a suggestion made you feel. 

“W - well,” You glance elsewhere, undeniably anxious with jittery nerves now. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt anything. If you never even met your mother then … I guess it makes sense that you would want to experience something like that for yourself. Not that I really have much practice with this sort of thing either but …”

“It’s fine.” He assures you, almost right on top of you now. If he got any closer he’d be sitting on your lap — and you weren’t so sure that wasn’t his ultimate goal at this point. “I’m not quite sure how to describe it but … it looked nice, didn’t it? Being held like that and tended to? Cared for …” 

You understood what he meant about this, too. It had been a very long time since you yourself had been cradled and babied by your own mother, and yet not so long that you’d entirely forgotten how comforting it had been. How safe you’d felt. To think that he’d never known that feeling in any capacity very nearly breaks your heart and irreparably shatters any lingering reservations you still had. You were embarrassed at the thought of doing this, yes — it seemed almost perverse somehow, if you were being honest — but your sympathetic heart ultimately overrides that. 

You did like helping people. 

And you also liked Kabukimono. 

So you shyly turn your head with a cautious motion, surprise registering in your mind when you find him mere inches from your face. His expression is some indecipherable amalgamation of hope and wanting, and solemn anguish bred from rejection and sorrow. It’s clear as day that he wanted more than anything to have even a taste of what it’s like to be wanted and cared for. You think, distantly, that you could probably give that to him a different way, if he would allow it. But that’s not what he’s asked for. Not today. 

Bringing your hands up, you gently cup the back of his head with one and tug on his shoulder with the other. He noises a soft sound of surprise, reminiscent of a wounded little thing, but he allows you to pull him in against you without any resistance at all. Soft hair tickles the exposed strip of your neck as his forehead settles against you. He doesn’t say anything though, and he doesn’t move. Recalling what your own mother used to do, you carefully wrap your arm around him so you can rub comforting circles across his back. 

“There, there,” You whisper to him. “It’s alright. I’m here for you.” 

He almost seems frozen in place for a moment, and then he abruptly shivers. Stiff and halting, it feels like the physical manifestation of long suppressed emotion violently bubbling up to the surface. 

You clutch him all the tighter to you in response and, tentatively, Kabukimono lifts his hands to lightly place them on your waist. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with them beyond that but the longer you hold him and murmur soft nothings into his hair the more he seems to come alive against you. With a quiet slither of fabric, he slides his arms around you in a loose hug. It slowly becomes more and more fervent until he’s all bit clinging to your waist like a lost, frightened child. Your head spins with the sudden surge of sorrow that rises in you but you can’t quite tell if the emotions were your own or if you were simply absorbing them through him. 

It didn’t really matter though. You couldn’t bear the thought of turning him away when it was so obvious how meaningful this was to him. You would have felt like a monster shoving him from you now. 

“Shh, you’re okay. I’ve got you. Shh.” Bending close, you press your mouth to the crown of his head in a lingering kiss. “Would you like to lay in my lap, Kabukimono?” 

Slowly, he nods. Still, he doesn’t speak. 

You aren’t sure what to make of his continued silence but he straightens up and gets shifted around entirely of his own accord, so you think it’s probably fine. Maybe he just doesn’t know what to say. You’re in much the same boat as you guide him down to rest the upper half of his body across your legs with his head cradled in the crook of your arm for support, and you take a moment to just look at him. His face really is beautiful. Far beyond any human concept of simple symmetry or fashionable looks. He’s perfect, in fact, and you idly start to wonder how any creator could abandon a puppet so beyond compare. 

Noticing then that his cheeks were a little flushed, which strikes you as decidedly odd, you bring your free hand up to tenderly cradle one side of his face. The skin is smooth and flawless, and cool to the touch, but you can still pick up the faintest note of heat coming off him. It is rather curious, isn’t it? You almost hadn’t expected him to have any warmth at all. Although, now that you considered it, was it his own or was he merely reflecting your body heat back at you? 

With a great amount of reverential care, you trace fingertips over the apples of his cheeks to just brush the dark, doleful eyelashes where they’re fanned out across his skin. They flutter slightly at the contact and then slowly open to peer up at you. There’s a shy uncertainty reflecting in his eyes that reminds you of how he’d looked when Niwa first brought him to the village. It felt like a whole lifetime ago now and the part of you that longs to protect him, see him safe and sound, and this precious spirit of his kept intact, further softens at the vulnerability you see staring up at you. 

“Would you like me to just hold you, or …” Words catching, you valiantly stamp down your nerves and look inward for the courage to go through with this. You didn’t know how to be a mother but for him, for this flawless creation of the gods, you were willing to try. “Or would you like me to nurse you as well?” 

Something you can’t quite give name to flashes across his expression and he demurely lowers his gaze. Kabukimono seems to think about it, perhaps weighing the odds; the gain and the risk he would be taking by crossing this line. You allow your thumb to caress over the roundest part of his soft cheek while you patiently wait for him to make his decision. Then, at length, he stirs to life again.

But rather than a verbal response, he half twists his upper body towards you and brings his hand up. The way he softly paws at your chest is tentative and seeking, not unlike how you’ve seen your niece blindly seek out the only source of nourishment she’s ever known. It’s like an instinctive drive, and you don’t hesitate to give into it as you reach up to tug at the collar of your kimono and pull it open. 

Whimpering softly in the back of his throat, Kabukimono’s expression takes on a truly needy edge now while he closes his fingers around the breast you're not currently working to free from your clothes. He squeezes and kneads it with an idle fascination that makes your breath start to come a little quicker. You’re certain this isn’t quite how playing at this role should make you feel but there’s no denying the way your body starts to grow warm when the fabric sags over one shoulder, allowing your breast to spill out. A distant shudder ripples up your spine at the same time his eyes go big and round. 

It's like he’s spellbound and, as if on command, that perfect mouth falls open to accept that which had long been denied him - either through the cruel negligence of his own creator or the simple lack of organic need for such things. None of that mattered anymore though. You could provide him with it in the here and now, even if it was only a small fraction of the real thing, and you actively ignore how very flushed you feel as you hunch closer to offer your nipple to him. For a split second you think you see a sheen of glistening moisture in his blue, blue eyes but then he closes them at the same moment he seals his mouth around the tip of your breast and forever hides the truth from you. 

Your breath catches with a dull jolt. The hot, wet, somewhat tingly sensation is a complete unknown to you and you’re not entirely sure what to make of it at first. Then he gives your teat an experimental suck and you promptly decide it’s not a bad feeling at all. In fact it even pulls a low breath up from deep within your lungs, prompting you to sigh as you relax into it. 

And it’s a shame, really, that you can’t make milk for him because Kabukimono quickly gives in to the hunger that appears to claw up from the darkest recesses of his heart — or whatever constituted for one in his manufactured body. He voraciously suckles and nuzzles his face up against you until the swell of your breast is pressed tight against his nose. It would have made it difficult for a normal person to breathe, but he is neither normal nor a person. The lack of air doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest, and you shudder when his tongue nudges up to lathe the stiffened bud as if he could encourage it to give him what he wanted if he just worked at it enough. 

Somewhat dizzy at the sensation, you turn your head to warily glance over at the doorway but something else catches your attention instead. You follow the line of his body down to the front of his pants and your pulse jumps at the tented fabric you find there. It startles you a great deal, not having expected a puppet to have such a human reaction and that was to say absolutely nothing of the fact he even had such anatomy in the first place! 

Feeling abashed and a bit self-conscious, you peer into his face again but he’s completely lost in whatever hazy, defenseless fog has come over him. He doesn’t appear to notice anything amiss at all, and it makes you wonder if he could really be this oblivious to what was happening with his own body. Or … could it be that he simply didn’t know what to do with it? 

Your heartbeat hammers a wild rhythm against your ribcage as you regard the front of his pants again. This is quite beyond what he’d initially wanted or asked for, and yet the thought of leaving him unattended didn’t appeal much to you. Gathering your courage, you carefully reach down and brush the bottom hem of his top out of the way before placing your palm over the faint bulge. He twitches and whines into the meat of the breast he’s latched onto, becoming almost fussy as he starts to half heartedly wriggle in your lap. His mouth just keeps suckling though, and the suction is so forceful that your nipple feels raw and tender in his mouth now. You’re very aware of how damp you’ve gotten between the legs over just the last few minutes and that emboldens you to close your fingers around the press of him to massage his length through his clothes. If it was affecting both of you like this then surely it wouldn’t hurt anything to indulge in it? 

But it quickly becomes apparent that he’s far more needy than you would have thought him to be, his squirming becoming more pronounced and desperate as the seconds tick by. He won’t let up on your teat though, nor does he reach down to help alleviate his current predicament himself. That left you fully in control of the situation and, surreptitiously, you peer over your shoulder at the doorway. It would be bad indeed if your sister came home to find the two of you like this so you had to make it quick if you were going to do it at all. 

Decision made, you reach for the tie on his pants and tug it loose with trembling fingers. Kabukimono noises a soft sound of question around his insistent sucking but you softly shush him as you work his bottoms down with some amount of effort in this position. “Don’t fret, I’ll take care of you. Just relax, okay?” 

He softly groans into the swell of your breast. Then, to your relief, he somewhat shyly angles his hips up off the floor to help you relieve him of his pure white pants, so virginal and fitting for the holy doll held in your arms. It almost seems like a mockery as you pull them down, revealing more of his lower body to the room as well as to your voracious eyes with every hushed rustle of fabric. The cock that at last springs up with a muted bounce makes your cunt flutter around nothing and he whines, very quietly, but it’s this part of him that strikes you as perhaps the most farcical of all. You’d never seen anything so perfectly shaped to not only match his lean, borderline dainty build but even compliment it too. Neither small nor large, it’s something in the middle that strikes you as ideal. 

Heart in your throat, you wrap your fingers around that length and give it a muted squeeze. 

Kabukimono sucks in a sharp breath, stiff and halting when he at last lets up on your teat for a moment. You’re acutely aware of the tremor that races through him as his shuddering lips loosen and then fall away completely to issue a threadbare moan against the spit lathered, aching nub. The sensation makes you mirror his response and, trembling against one another, you hunch further over him. 

“Shh.” You whisper again, stroking his cock with a steady hand. “I’ve got you, sweet boy. I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.” 

“T - that’s …” 

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Brows knitting, he seems to struggle to find a response before giving up and offering a stitled little nod instead. His squirming becomes increasingly fitful but you just clutch him all the more fervently to you with the arm wrapped around his shoulders while the other works his length. It’s vaguely fleshy under your palm, yet so firm and unrelenting that the manufactured quality of his physical vessel can’t be overlooked. He clearly isn’t a real boy despite how very human he looks, and rather than discouraging that impression this unexpected anatomy of his just further highlights the fact. People weren’t perfect like this, but dolls were. Only puppets could be this hauntingly alluring, if their creators wanted them to be. The unnatural origin of his creation didn’t mean he wasn’t just as deserving of being nurtured and cared for as any other person though. And he was a person. Of that you were sure. 

In fact the artificiality of his body, so obvious and unavoidable when you were looking at him like this, touching him like this, only makes you want to see him tended to and coddled all the more. With your pulse jackhammering a wild rhythm, you timidly push your chest out to offer your breast to him again and coaxingly prod his warbling mouth with the stiffened tip. Kabukimono looks truly dazed and even disoriented when he finally cracks his eyes open to peer up at you again. There’s a question on his face, an unspoken oath that lingers just behind his lips, but still he can’t quite seem to find his voice. 

He was overwhelmed, that much was clear, and you carefully bend your head close to press another kiss to the crown of his head. “What’s wrong, sweet one? Do you want me to stop?” 

“No.” He croaks out immediately. “P - please … don’t stop.” 

His slim hips give a weak, twitchy jolt under your hand as if to emphasize what he was requesting of you. Practically begging you for it. Of course you were happy to oblige. 

Issuing a low mewl into the statically charged air, Kabukimono lets his head loll back against your supporting arm as you tug on his cock with more certainty in the repetitive motion, sighing quiet moans up at the ceiling. He doesn’t quite seem to know what to do or how to process what’s happening but some instinctive part of his mind must kick in a moment later because he haphazardly starts to nudge his pants the rest of the way off. You keep pulling on his cock the whole time, secretly delighting in the way he fiercely shudders in your hold, and you especially like the way he spreads his legs wide once he’s finally freed himself of those hindering clothes. 

Left naked from the waist down with only his short kimono all askew and rucked up around his delicate waist, he cranes his neck and latches onto your offered breast again. You can’t stop yourself from softly groaning when he starts suckling with a new found voracity borne of an intense, insatiable hunger that makes the molten heat in your belly curl tight. Your chest gives a dull throb at the desperation you can feel bleeding off him now and your cunt quickly follows suit with a sympathetic flutter of its own. 

Emboldened with undeniable arousal, you release his cock long enough to reach up and yank the other shoulder of your top down. Then you gently take his hand so you can guide it to your neglected tit where he eagerly grabs and paws at you without needing any further encouragement to do so. His thumb clumsily brushes your soft nipple, as inexperienced as he is uncertain, but his innate enthusiasm more than makes up for any lack of technical skill. You felt like you were teetering dangerously close to the edge, and this was the first he’d touched you in true reciprocation. It was maddening, in a way. 

“Ooh … Kabukimono, if you do that —“

Curiously, but without any apparent hesitation, he pinches the bud between thumb and forefinger to give it a tentative tug. The intense tremor that bolts through you like a vicious lightning strike has you sitting up a little straighter, actively fighting the urge to start squirming too. Your pussy thrums with it as hot, coaxing pulses wash over you despite the total lack of forethought he gives the gesture but you still recognized it for what it was. 

An innocent, inquisitive touch that did not stem from prior knowledge or experience in such matters. All he likely understood was that touching you like this made your breath come quicker, your heartbeat pounding such an erratic war drum crescendo it seemed likely to burst right through your skin at any moment. You were sinking in it, grateful for the unrefined, almost shy way he tweaks one nipple while deeply feeding from the other with his mouth. 

And through it all, you just keep dragging your hand up the exquisite length of him before making the slow descent back down to the base again. At some point you curl your hand lower to gently cup his balls in your palm, and you’re admittedly quite surprised he has these too. You were far from any kind of doctor but you’d heard whispers about how these were what truly defined a man and made them different from women, but Kabukimono wasn’t a man. What use did he have of this firm yet pliable sack between his legs? You didn’t understand it. Not really, but you gently massage them anyway because men seem to like that and Kabukimono does too. 

Weak and hazy, he halfheartedly kicks at the floor with a restless agitation that makes his pelvis lift higher, as if begging for even more of your attention. Your own excitement was making it difficult to draw a full breath now as you give him a faint squeeze before brushing your fingers lower still. Teasing over the softly raised ridge between his legs, you marvel at the way his expression pinches to accompany the tortured groan he lets out. He was so malleable and vulnerable in your lap that you think you could have probably done anything at all to him in that moment and he would’ve accepted it without question. 

“Do you like that, little love?” You ask, prodding into his taint with a bit more pressure. “Does that make you feel good?” 

Unable to keep his trembling mouth latched on any longer, Kabukimono releases your nipple and tips his head down to look at where your hand disappears between his thighs. He practically wheezes at the sight — either at his own nudity or the sensation of your fingers touching him in such an intimate way — and he offers a quick, stilted nod. “Y - yes … it feels good. I — I feel so good, mommy. Please don’t stop.” 

You gasp at the vertigo inducing shock that slams into you all at once. You’d never been called that before, nor had you expected him to say such a thing either. What surprises you most of all though is how much your body positively flares for him because of it, and you hurriedly bring your hand back up to grip his cock again. When you drag your stiff fingers to the tip and find sticky slick beading there you give a dull, startled little jolt. He was even excreting fluids here too? 

“I won’t stop, lovely boy. Don’t worry about that and just relax. Let me take care of you, okay? You’re safe here, I promise.”

He’s panting so hard he can’t seem to formulate a coherent response, so he just nods his head again. The distracted hand on your breast eventually falls away entirely to clutch at your side in tugging desperation while you steadily work him over at the same steady pace as before. You can see the mounting tension in his body as much as in his face, and your own arousal seems to ratchet up and mirror his with near alarming accuracy. By the time Kabukimono’s narrow hips start to judder a few moments later you too feel like you’re going to find release any second now. 

You valiantly try to shove such thoughts to the back of your mind though, for you had a role to play and a perfect boy to tend to, and you could feel his cock warmly pulsing against your palm in warning. “Are you getting close? What a good boy you are, Kabukimono. Go ahead and cum for me. Cum for — cum for mommy and then we’ll get you cleaned up, alright?” 

He chokes on a harsh intake of air, as if he’d been sucker punched and the sound got stuck in his throat. Hips bucking and pitifully mewling, he wraps his trembling arm around your middle so he can clutch you fiercely against himself and seal his mouth around your throbbing teat again. You seethe through your teeth at the heightened sensitivity, toes curling against the tatami mat underneath you, but you just keep tugging at his twitching length even when you felt like you could just sob. Never before had you been so terribly, achingly aroused, and the way he almost frantically suckles at your teat certainly doesn’t help. 

You know the moment he’s reached his peak because his lower body gives one last, agonizingly stiff lurch up into your hand before going completely still. The vibrating tension that runs through him travels straight up his cock, internally flexing under your fingertips, until it materializes out of his dainty slit in a rush of creamy white. Pulse after pulse, it rushes up out of him and oozes down your knuckles to drip onto his pelvis, and you just stare in rapt fascination while he moans into the meat of your breast. You almost hadn’t thought anything at all would come out, and that he’d simply experience the same kind of twitching orgasms you did when you rubbed your cunt in the middle of the night or in the bath. But this was clearly real ejaculate, as if it had come from a real man. Was it just as potent too? Could he seed you the same way your sister had been seeded by the husband out working on the open sea? 

And far more importantly — for what purpose had he been made to so closely resemble a human male that even his testes would produce this kind of discharge? 

You had so many questions. A boat load more than you’d started with, if you were being honest, but now was not the time to give voice to any of them. Not yet. 

With his cum sticky and cooling on your knuckles, you glance down into Kabukimono’s face again and you’re glad to find his expression relaxed now. His fine brow was no longer knitted with high strung tension or distressed yearning for something he’d never had but wanted oh so very badly. There was no trace at all of that lingering uncertainty you’d seen earlier, and he seemed perfectly at ease now. Comfortable. 

You have to stamp down the urge to reach up and brush some of those silky forelocks back from his face, deciding it could wait until after you’d wiped your hand clean. He just looked so content lying there in your lap, snuggled deep into your chest with his lips gone slack but still idly working around your puffy nipple, like he couldn’t quite stop. Like he really was just a baby in your arms — albeit a much too big, far too mature to be believable baby, but a babe nonetheless. 

It was precious and sweet, and oddly satisfying in your mind even though this, too, probably should have been disconcerting to you. But it was simply yet another uncanny facet of the altogether preternatural existence he represented. Something that was human and yet not. A man but a boy, but not a real boy, and just as with everything else that was unsettling or just ever so slightly off about Kabukimono you were willing to overlook it. All too happy, in fact. 

For you could not play the role of mother if you looked at him with doubt or uncertainty in the back of your mind. You would baby him, if that was what he wanted, and you would do it well. 

You swore you would.

⭐

Not crossposted (yet)

[blackwall-my-tiny-husband]

Weekend writing challenge 4/4 pt1

I saw these prompts from like a month ago and several really struck me with the desire to write for them so here I am lol.

The prompts are by the lovely @thedissonantverses and can be found HERE

I’m using the prompt : Character A is kidnapped specifically to lure Character B into a trap and Character B is aware. Optional C and D trying to talking them out of rescuing A.

Set sometime after Hardings lock in

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Taash stood in the doorway of the meditation room arms crossed, watching Zalan prowl the room, attaching small daggers to various parts of his armor. He hesitated by a bow- Harding’s bow before grabbing it and carrying it in his hand.

His own bow was slung across his back and he grabbed his last sword before stalking out of the room. Shoving past the Qunari.

They let out a frustrated sigh and followed, using their longer strides to get in front of him and blocked the entrance to the eluvian room. Bellara was in the library with most of the others, her hands twisting in worry.

“Get out of my way Taash.” Zalan was nearly growling and Taash ground their teeth, he was so angry, they could smell the sharp almost metallic scent heavy in the air. So overwhelming it was almost covering the fear coming from half the team.

Flaring their nostrils the dragon hunter shook their head.

“They took Harding on purpose. If you just rush in like this you’ll die.” A shudder still ran through them watching Zalan. No one had ever seen him like this, he was barely contained rage and glared murderously up at them.

“Move.” His hand was on the hilt of his sword and Taash was suddenly very aware that most of the others had no weapons on them. Their own axes were tucked away in their room up the stairs and would be no help in this moment.

The air suddenly felt colder; it could have been Neve’s magic or it could have been the silence slicing through the room. The sounds of quiet arguing between the others in the library moments ago over what to do, how to get Lace back, who should go, how to approach the obvious trap all came to a halt and everyone’s eyes were on Taash and Zalan.

The crow was coiled, his eyes empty of their normal mirth.

“I will go through you or past you. Your choice.” His voice was hard and deadly and Taash knew he wasn’t bluffing.

“Rook! If you go you’ll be killed. We just need a few minutes to figure out how to help her-“ Bellara had taken a few steps closer, trying to reach him with the worry in her voice but Davrin grabbed her arm to keep her back.

Zalan didn’t budge or even turn to look at her, he took a step towards Taash instead, gently pulling on his sword handle, the threat clear.

“They will kill you. That won’t help Harding.” They tried one more time, keeping their arms loose at their sides ready to try and grab Rook if he made a move.

“They can try.” He snapped, face twisted in rage and he took another step, fully drawing his sword. “Move Taash.”

There was a little gasp from Bellara whose eyes bugged. Davrin pulled her behind him and took a few cautious steps forward but even that didn’t put him close enough to lunge at Rook if he attacked. The tension was so thick in the air Taash felt bogged down like it was smoke filling a closed off room.

A tiny bag landed at Zalan’s feet, clattering and Lucanis held his hand out.

“Give me Harding’s bow. You won’t be able to carry it with your own on your back.”

The assassin was in his full battle armor, swords at his hip with several extra daggers on his belts just like Zalan. Rook didn’t move but did turn his head just enough to glare at his fellow Crow.

“I will not slow you down. I know how a crow operates on a contract.”

Taash watched Zalan’s jaw clench and he reluctantly handed over the bow still in his off hand. Lucanis just slid it onto his back and looked up, calmer than anyone else in the entire room as he picked up the little bag that, by the scent, contained tiny explosives.

“We will be back with Harding. Taash please finish dinner for me, all the preparations were already laid out.”

Unwillingly Taash leaned to one side, worry still weighing on them, making their face scrunch. But even that small opening was enough and Zalan was storming through, Lucanis calmly on his heels.

“We aren’t going to stop them?” Came Bellara’s almost shrill protest, gesturing at them while Davrin stayed in front of her, not letting her try to go after them.

Taash threw their hands up in surrender and walked away from the eluvian room. Not knowing what else to do.

“He was serious Bell. I think he really would have fought Taash to get through.” Neve grumbled, coming to stand near the elves, arms crossed herself.

The whole team was angry. At themselves for letting Harding get taken. At the Venatori for sending in a ransom note that said for Rook to come alone. At Zalan for rushing off. At themselves for not being able to stop him.

“Lucanis is well known for his Mage killing.” Emmrich said, patting Manfed’s arm who was making distressed noises. “Surely he will be able to keep even Rook’s recklessness in check and be able to bring them all home safely.” His voice was calm, sure, but Taash could smell the worry coming from him too.

They were all scared for Harding, trapped by the Venatori, and for Rook who had looked like a completely different person since they’d told him about Lace and the note. He’d looked like an enraged dragon, eyes full of fire and the promise of death. His anger had radiated off of him in waves and it made Taash wonder if the mages with their magic could have physically seen that, it had felt like they should be able to see it even if logically it wasn’t really magic and so probablythey couldn’t.

The crows were gone, to fetch their lost scout and Taash looked around the room. The others looking as lost as they felt. Guess the only thing left to do was wait.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The best part of this is definitely that I could swap Zalan and Harding here and I feel like it would basically be the same, she would have been a little less plow through your friends about it but she would definitely rain death on her enemies to get Rook back

[scrivenger-grimgar]

So much of Xie Lian's blood having soaked into the land that the land actually counts as his body and to fully kill him you'd have to destroy whole acres of land, cleanse all the soil a mile deep into the ground, uproot trees, burn flora, smash stone to dust, his body is the land and the land are his ashes, he's would be so fucking eldritch to any non-mortal because while on his land he seems to infinitely expand all around them, pressing down on gods and ghosts alike, but leaving mortals in awe of such divine scenery.

Imagining his lair is like a forest with three houses and Xie Lian's cave house: one house for Ban Yue, one for Lang Ying, and one for guests. The birch trees' leaves are red and yellow year-round, the flower petals are always gold and white, and he gets really into kintsugi and ceramics using his own gold dust.

His blood soaked into the land so deeply that it became a part of his "body" like how trees grow around signs or fish incorporate metal into their bodies, so even as his skeleton rests in the coffin, you'd need to destroy miles of land and everything on it, growing on or in it, even a lot of the air and water and stone.

It's what lets the trees grow gold leaves, makes the water sparkle, and the wood exceptionally tough, and the stone almost crystal-like. the vibes are like "the giant corpse of a dead god half buried in the earth".

84+ Olympic swimming pools worth of land as Xie Lian's body, he's like "I bled out here, so the land is mine."

People down on their luck would make pilgrimages for just a few leaves, but you have to actually talk to Xie Lian and tell him about your life and if he thinks you're lying, he curses you. Sometimes he doesn't even curse people on purpose! It's not his fault that people try to take his treasure and end up losing their arms!! His kind of preferred curse is like "you always trip every 30 steps"

Really if they didn't intend to be cursed then they shouldn't go around a Ghost King's lair and touch objects that are surround by and ominous black smoke and that is clearly cursed (no one else can see the smoke; it looks completely normal to everyone else.)

Also, his cave is still just a pond of blood that turned gold so people will try to take the Godsblood but it's like uber cursed so that only Xie Lian can walk thru it, and it eternally replenishes to a certain level no matter what. Should it touch your skin it will burn it away until nothing but bone is left. There's a rumor that if you drink the gods blood you become immortal, but it just kills you by burning you from the inside. A cave pond of Godsblood with a natural stone plinth holding a gold-stained three-layered coffin. At one point xl accidentally drops the golden froggy in his blood pool and it becomes animate so he's just like, "Well I guess you're my friend now!"

Xie Lian could even use his Godsblood as a weapon, it comes from himself after all, he can simply cut himself and once he gets it on his target, he can use it to curse someone on the spot. This makes him the most dangerous calamity just on an individual level, simply because someone equal to or stronger than him must be the one to remove the curse if he doesn't. Cutting him with a weapon means he can curse your weapon, he can curse your food, he can curse your clothes, all with a little Fallen Godsblood.

I like thinking he does pottery and ceramics, and then when they break, he fixes them with his own gold dust from his scars/fingers. he can use his fingers like sparkly chalk!

Xie Lian appearing as Gold Gathers would play into the porcelain doll aesthetic unless he's only with Hua Cheng, specifically to put distance between his identity as Gold Gathers and as the Martial God of Curses. Making his skin like porcelain for the sound specifically because so many officials think it's so creepy. He fills out his wounds with gold, but only keeps the ones he cares for, like wounds from Lang Qianqiu, but entirely removes scars from Bai Wuxiang.

Xie Lian's disguise being a broken statue of himself is hilarious, especially as the heavens get such a specifically different version of Gold Gathers than both the mortal realm and ghost realm.

"No! I know I fought you! I struck you right there!!" the unnamed Martial God yells at him, pointing towards his shoulder. Xie Lian's head tilts, purposefully stiff and jilting, as he taps one foot against the ground two make the sound of shifting earthenware, all for the specific purpose of making his movements as unsettling as possible. Just as the Gold Gathers that the heavens know would. "No. I have not." he says, very stilted and flat toned. He shifts his robes slightly off his shoulder in order to show that (supposedly) no gold-gilded wound ever existed there. "I have not been wounded there." he lies, turning on his heel, with a monotone, "goodbye." And truly who could argue with that. Certainly no one would dare try.

As the curse god, Xie Lian probably looks like scrap god Xie Lian but holding two scrolls, one of curses and one of spells, along with the sword, because martial god… his robes would be better quality, but still white with gray/blue accents. He's known to get rid of curses and create spells for protection…. two scrolls in one hand, for duality, and a sword pointed downward in the other.

ok actual ghost king xie lian hours now.

xie lian dies in that coffin, fully and wholly. repeated deaths wear his body down to the point where even the curse shackles cant bring him back.

his ghost body, that of a wrath, looks divine. his clothes are simple and white, golden stitching and patterns barely visible.

his fingers, once worn out, having repeatedly fallen off in his attempted escapes, are now made of gold.

all of his scars are filled with gold, in fact.

the hole through his chest, directly piercing his heart, flows over with gold and spreads out around his torso like shattered ceramic.

the flesh once covered by the cursed shackles is a line of gold, cracks flourishing like vines, under his jaw and up to his cheeks and eyes like tear tracks.

his lips once chapped and torn and bitten now shine gold under the sunlight.

his ears are pointed and he finds joy in wearing jewelry that jingle when he walks.

his red blood is now golden.

he makes his lair overtop of his grave, a cave that was only barely passable as a yong'an mausoleum, with no visible markers that anyone was buried there.

the blood from his hundred year burial infected the land around him for miles, and now its just as much his own as ruoye or fangxin. it listens and responds to him, and he can feel it move.

he still travels, but now he has somewhere to return to, and with his luck returned to normal, things are mostly fine.

instead he hosts markets in order to find cursed goods and keep them out of the hands of mortals. his lair is filled with so many cursed objects.

when he becomes a calamity, his motivation is to keep others from stumbling upon his lair and becoming hurt. as soon as he's out of the kiln he dissolves into gold dust and glitter, teleporting right back to his den and confusing the officials sent to observe him.

he still finds his human disguise being involved in the conflict between banyue and yong'an, and becoming general hua xie, and "dying" that same death.

his third ascension happens after he deals with a particularly nasty curse, he ascends in his human disguise which is basically just canon him. he gains the title as the martial god of curses and spells, which is quite accurate but he can't exactly tell people that he's been studying weird objects for centuries now can he? no one knows that he's the calamity known as White Gold Gathers...

[artuurle]

I don't have a silly cheeky comment for this one besides it leans heavily on my headcanons and stuff on Grujaja. (that's how you know ur in the tranches for a character.)

^face of a guy that keeps hurtin his bonds w anyone close to him. Bonus doodles i made while drawing this that are semi related due to being tied to my Gr headcanons unda the cut lol:

[mecha--maniac]

Giving the scrungles chao saga

Mephiles's? Sweet babyangel service chao; if they did races Meph would definitely be dancemom manipulative of the other chao handlers just to make them fight, with the chao being none the wiser.

Metal's starts off as a feral little shit that loves to bite; but biting is not very effective on Metal, so oops bro, looks like you have been government assigned a chao (Who eventually warms up to him with the correct combination of ignoring their shenanigans and manhandling them into being socialized. No, we are having a nice day at the beach, you may not go and bite small children)

The third one is for an unpictured different Metal. This one was a rescue and is very shy, but their mommy is very scary with a resting murder face which gives them some more confidence as they grow up. Anyone who messes with this chao would wind up mysteriously missing.

If these were in the game...

Meph's chao would operate like a chaos chao, except it needs higher stats in power and flight.

Metal chao 1 would be neutral/speed/flight with a disproportionate amount of kangaroos and/or bug animals givin to it.

Metal chao 2 would be dark/power/flying, raised primarily on drives and dragons.

[nyehhh-hh]

......thanks

[teaandinanity]

... what kind of ignoramus designed the EA app. Was this designed by a committee of corporate twits with too many business degrees and a complete dearth of common sense? Having to GO ONLINE to enable OFFLINE MODE is the stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard of in my life. Do you know when I need offline mode? Do you, incomprehensible moron from planet idiot who designed this feature? WHEN I DO NOT HAVE GODDAMN INTERNET ACCESS.

In conclusion I hope the fuckwit(s) responsible for this step on a lego and fall down a (short) flight of stairs in front of three people they respect and acquire a RAFT of bruises to both their bodies and egos both, amen.

[sygneth]

The confirmation that Harry's squad abandoning him is just poor writing just so the player can continue doing shit on their own is the fact that it never gets explained. Harry even tries to bring it up but kim just. Shuts him up about about it is so so sooooo absurd. Jean's inaction could also harm him but he just makes harry drop the subject? C'mon folk it could have not been more obvious that the writers simply did not come up with that part 💀 I wish people would just take things as they are: de is not really a detailed novel. It's a fuckin game. With excellent writing, excellent characters and worldbuilding, but still a game

I don't think there is much to add here anon. This is a very solid point.

EDIT: I figured it may be worth adding that this is about the posse leaving on the day of the mercenary tribunal, not before the events of the game

[sunb0ts]

it makes me sappy because like. it's so odd having an account that's been around since you were 16 and you can see it (<- he's on the mass post editor and being struck with thoughts and visions)

[skrunksthatwunk]

"i'm not disabled" followed immediately by "i've got bad knees and a bad back" is certainly something to read 🤨 you know it doesn't have to be cripling for it to count, right...? it's not normal to be in pain after 15 minutes of standing. ableds can stand for, like, an hour at a time before they need to sit.

i know! i appreciate the concern, but i uh. dunno lol. genuinely i don't know. but i included the afaik ("i'm not disabled afaik" was the original phrase, though i'm not like mad at you for excluding it or anything) because i'm well aware that it's a possibility. it's hard to explain but there's a lot of little things that don't add up to much but are like. noticeable. like i would prefer to do most things sitting, if i could, as a matter of comfort. it would be easier for me. and walking isn't as bad as just standing. i've never been great at taking care of my body, and this has only gotten worse with time. it's hard for me to know what i should read as necessity and what i should read as preference, and how much weight to put on said preferences. like you said, i know it doesn't need to be "if i don't sit down i'm going to collapse" or anything, but where to draw that line between Definitely A Medical Thing That Affects Me More Than Other People and.. not that, i'm not sure. i kinda just thought i was a persistently slightly tired and low energy person, but it doesn't seem bad enough to be chronic fatigue, so...? is it related to the half-diagnosed. idk it's complicated depression (and yes in hindsight i probably should've counted that as disabling but whatever)? idk it's not a rabbit hole i've explored much at all is my point. but i know it's there and uh i guess this was sort of validating in a way anon so.. yeah? yeah👍

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: implied nsfw, implied noncon/dubcon, poly yanderes, sprained ankle, captive reader, apocolypse au, talk of fertility, murder of unnamed characters, mentions of potentially killing reader

♡ FEM reader

♡ P2: Staying

Just thinking about the apocalypse, the two army men who’ve long survived it in their shelter with barely any trouble, and then you, a poor girl trying hard to outrun your last captives only to run into them.  

You didn’t realize back then that it was like trading piranhas for sharks, too caught up in begging for their aid to think better of it. You should have just kept running, but your ankle was sprained badly, maybe even broken, and you were wearing so little you would most likely have died from the cold during the night if they hadn’t taken you in.

It seems unfair of them to have kept the giant bunker all to themselves, only the two of them, but you don’t judge. You would likely have kept it all to yourself as well.

This new world has bred new humans, and they’re all monsters. It’s honestly quite surprising they’d even let you in, given this is what they’re protecting, this sanctuary from the past, a comfort most people would kill their closest friend in exchange for.

Trust is all but dead, and so is honor or any other morality—you would know, you’ve lived out there for it all, only having survived by spreading your legs at the right moments. It’s a shameful tactic, and many times, you’ve wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to spare yourself and just die. What was the purpose?

This—you think. This must be it. They have showers and working hot water.

You don’t know how it’s possible—the original owners of the shelter must have been some type of millionaire. You haven’t had a warm shower since the world went to shit—years ago. It’s been a choice of waiting for rain or finding a lake, hoping it wasn’t rancid. Meanwhile, they have soap—scented soap, the lush kind you’d forgotten existed. It feels so nice you have to cry—rejoice—sobbing while lathering yourself, watching all the filth go down the drain, leaving you smooth-skinned once again for the first time in forever. You can’t remember having ever been so clean before, feeling reborn.

They have fresh clothes for you too—new socks and underwear, all clean fabrics, so much more than what you wore—pants, a shirt, and a sweater to keep warm. You didn’t know there still existed people who lived like the old days—you’d thought it was long gone, a bittersweet dream you sometimes have the pleasure of at night instead of the usual nightmares. Never had you thought you’d experience anything even remotely similar, but here you are—looking yourself in the mirror after so long, surprised to see a human looking back at you.

And they feed you. Not scraps, not leftovers, not rot, or days-old flesh from the last successful hunt—but freshly baked bread, vegetables, fruit—for fuck’s sake, they even have juice. You cry again while eating, and then you find yourself begging them again, “Please, let me stay—please, I’ll do anything. I can cook, clean, work—anything at all, I can do it, just please let me stay…”

You’re on your knees, forehead pressed to the heated metal floors—toasty and comforting, you think you could sleep better than ever right there.

“We’ll think about it,” one of them mutters as he gathers the plates. His voice was so harsh he might as well have said, not a chance. It’s clear by his frown that he’d rather send you right out again, leave you to the monsters.

“We’ll at least let you stay until your ankle heals, so don’t worry.” The other is more sympathetic, helping you up. “For now, let’s get you to bed. You must be exhausted.”

It hadn’t crossed your mind that they’d have beds—actual real soft downy mattresses and duvets and pillows. The two of you help make it together. It feels so foreign that you wonder if you might have died earlier. Some years back, you wouldn’t have thought heaven would resemble a prison cell, but now it only made sense—safe metal walls and a bed. What more could one possibly want in the world?

“I’ll wrap your leg for you if you sit.” He holds out a bandage roll, gesturing to your ankle.

Blinking, you can’t even register what he’d just offered until he’s getting down on his knees before you.

You panic, then. Bandages are hard to come by—it hardly seems worth it. “There’s no blood, you shouldn’t waste it—”

“It’ll heal better and faster this way,” he adds reassuringly. His voice is so soft and compelling that you find yourself sitting down without further quarrel, even when it makes you feel spoiled.

He’s gentle with you—holding you steady while wrapping it just tightly enough to be supportive. There hasn’t been a man who’s touched you like it.

“Does that feel okay?”

You can barely tell he’s talking to you. It’s all so lost on you that you can only wordlessly nod your head.

He fastens it just as carefully before standing. “Is there anything else you might need?”

You shake your head just as wordlessly. You can’t believe how nice he’s being. It makes no sense at all. Not in this world. Not anymore.

“I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have to lock the door,” he apologizes with a sheepish look once standing on the threshold.

You’d been stuck thinking about how warm the room was, trying to remember a single time you hadn’t been freezing during the night. “That’s okay, I understand,” you say. After all, what’s a locked door in comparison?

“Good,” he smiles—it’s likely the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. “Alright then, good night.”

Once again, you’re left stunned. The last time you’d heard those words spoken must have been from a loved one long since dead. It makes your lip wobble again as you say it back, “Good night.”

It's strange—they could have left you for dead but didn’t. They don’t seem gullible—they can’t be if they’ve managed to protect this place for so long—but you suppose there still exist men who have a soft spot in their hearts for helpless damsels in distress.

As you sink into the comfort, draping your duvet atop your battered body, you don’t even care about the camera in the ceiling—blinking red while watching you.

“Did you have to bandage her up?” he grumbles as the other walks into the bedroom after having said his goodnights to you. 

He’s already in bed, observing through the cameras on a tablet—you were currently curling into the duvet, wrapping it around you close for comfort. You’d likely not slept on anything so soft in a while—it wouldn’t surprise him if you preferred the floor. But no, you drift asleep quite quickly.

“You know how badly things can heal without proper support,” the other answers, regarding it as no big deal. “And besides, it’s not like we often need it—we have plenty to spare.”

He removes his clothes and crawls onto the bed as well, lifting the covers to slot himself right next to the other man, who still has a scowl on his face.

“Oh, come on…” he drawls. “She’s exactly what we’ve been talking about, isn’t she?”

The grump doesn’t answer, still with keen eyes watching you, even as you’ve fallen asleep—as if waiting for you to do something befitting a wild animal in a cage. The other’s eyes fall to the screen as well, but he only awes in delight.

“Look at her, already fast asleep,” he purrs while zooming in on your face. “I mean, did you see how she was begging earlier, what she said? I’d do anything,” he continues, almost whining. “So cute, I could have fucked her right then and there.”

The other man sets the tablet aside with a disagreeing sigh. “We’ll wait at least a week for her system to detoxify from the wasteland,” he says strictly. “I’m not touching her before then, and neither are you unless you want to sleep alone.”

The other groans then, flopping down on his back. “Yeah, yeah, you and your safety protocols,” he dismisses before a smirk creeps up his face, glee twinkling in his eyes as he looks up at his grouchy counterpart. “But then we keep her, right?”

“Tch—we don’t even know if she’s fertile. The wasteland could have made her barren as long as she’s been out there,” the other shuffles down into the sheets as well, turning to look at his partner and the awfully keen look on his face.

“So we test her. Give her a medical check,” he says, again as if it’s not a problem, even when it very well could turn out to be.

They’ve already broken quarantine rules by letting you in here—and who knows what your real objectives truly are.

“I don’t trust her,” he states.

The other pouts. “I don’t see what one little lady can do—she’s hardly a threat. And we already purged the group that was following her. I doubt any of them made it out alive.”

True, he had gone out and sent several gas grenades into the settlement. Surely, none of them managed to escape, but then again—

“Pest control only works when you kill them all, and we’ve just let one inside our own house,” he grumbles.

The other one sighs. “Okay, so if it turns out she isn’t as cute as she looks, we’ll deal with her like the rest. But if I’m right, and she really is just a harmless little thing, we keep her, and I get to have the first go.”

Suppose there isn’t anything better to do aside from killing you straight away, which would only have been a waste of food, water, clothes, and bandages. 

“Fine.”

The other grins at the agreeance, humming, “I guess until then, we’ll just have to make do with each other—I've been hard since we watched her shower.” He leans forward for contact but is shut down as his bedmate rolls around with his back turned to him.

“Tch—take care of it yourself.” Tonight has been too stressful to tug each other’s dicks. 

He can hear him whine behind him, but he settles down soon enough.

Suppose it would be nice fucking a woman again. It’s been so many years he figured he wouldn’t need it anymore. They’ve made do with each other so far. But even he can’t deny, once you’d washed all the blood and muck off, once he saw the dewy hue of your soft skin and the silk of your hair, all those plush curves, and not to mention that awfully sweet look on your face—he felt the tug in his pants too.

He'll do a medical check on you tomorrow. He hopes you’re fertile. But even if you’re not, he might give in to the other’s wishes and keep you anyway. After all, they might have many luxuries, but the comfort of pussy is one they haven’t had in a long, long, long time.

♡ BNHA – KiriBaku, BakuDeku, ShinKami, DabiHawks, EndHawks, ErasurMic ♡ JJK – SatoSugu, ItaFushi, SukuIta, ♡ HQ – Miya twins, KageHina, BokuAka, ♡ CSM – AkiDen, YoshiDen ♡ BLLK – NagiReo

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[hecticelectron]

Hi, this is a big post about my new TTRPG, Defy the Gods, which I’m Kickstarting soon. It’s a queer sword & sorcery adventure-romance set in fantasy ancient Mesopotamia. I was inspired by Conan, Clash of the Titans (1981!) and Princess Mononoke. (I've also got a BlueSky megathread going about it.)

The Kickstarter is live until May 29. Back it now!

Art by Thalie Shelen! @thalieshelen

(Btw hi I'm Chrys, a queer, trans game designer in Columbus, Ohio. This will be my second published game. The first was a furry pack of nonsense called Raccoon Sky Pirates.)

Defy the Gods is sword & sorcery as a story game. My favorite PbtA games emulate specific stories and lead you to resonant emotional moments like you find in those stories. Here, I used PbtA to emulate sword & sorcery, with an emphasis on the romantic moments—but also plenty of metal 🤘. You use the flirtation mechanics (taken from Thirsty Sword Lesbians) to tempt, support, or thwart others. But then, you can roll too high (taken from Apocalypse Keys), where you get more than you bargained for. Like Conan running out of the Tower of the Elephant while it crumbles around him.

Also like Conan, you have a glorious destiny, but in this case it ain’t good. Rising to your most powerful self makes you monstrous, heralding your character’s end as a hero and their beginning as an NPC antagonist.

It’s a queer game. You can fall in love with anyone, or make them fall in love with you. But because the game is also about power, the gods and tyrants wait to stomp on you if your enticement falls flat. Like if you flirt with someone in the wrong neighborhood. Every character has their own arc, and one of the things I had the most fun with was making those feel like queer problems as well as ancient-world sword & sorcery problems.

Play a fierce Sword, chaos-loving Sorcerer, fugitive Revenant, mischievous Sailor, immortal-sworn Vessel, or wild-raised Wolfling. (All character portraits by Thalie Shelen @thalieshelen)

The Sword is big-hearted and violent. You have a move that lets you kill any human-sized mortal NPC within arm’s reach, without rolling, if you’re not already in combat. This always causes more problems than it solves.

While most players roll just 2d6 & add their stat, the Sorcerer casts spells by rolling a lot of dice & looking for patterns in them. If you can’t find any patterns, your sorcery runs amok. This chaos is kind of lovely. For instance, you're always changing your body—sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. But always gorgeous.

The Revenant is like Inanna, or if Eurydice made it out. They escaped the land of the dead. They aren’t who they were in their past life, nor who they were as a shade. They're still figuring out who they are now. Demons pursue them to claw them back to the Underworld.

The Sailor can call on a cast of past friends and lovers for help. They always have a plan, and an eye for the exit. One of their moves lets you fill in the map of the otherwise unknown world.

The Vessel is in love with a minor god. They channel their patron’s power by wounding themself, but their patron can also soothe their pain.

The Wolfling was raised by animals in the Wilds and is curious about the humans, but they belong in neither world. They're definitely the part most directly inspired by Princess Mononoke.

The World Forces are the antagonist. You build them at the table, in quick rounds of pick lists. They are:

The Pantheon: gods, goddesses, and demons. They make the rules, but maybe you can break them.

The City: tyrants, the wealthy, and others with the gods' blessing. They push you to the margins, but you can fight to be seen.

The Wilds: gigantic creatures and their trackless wilderness home. It's place of danger and new rules, but you'll probably break them.

The Shadow of Atlantis: long-gone elders. They dared to scorn the gods, and the Pantheon destroyed them for it, but through you they may live again.

Death: a hungry, totalitarian force. Its underground domain is the end for all mortals and the mockery of hope. But maybe you can return.

Art by Shan Bennion! @anonbeadraws

This was an intensely personal project, but it was too big for me to do by myself. Here are all the people who helped make it a reality:

Avery Alder: Design advisor

Basheer Ghouse: @basheerghouse Cultural consultant

Cat Tobin: Horizons Mentor https://www.pelgranepress.com

Cris Viana: Graphic designer & layout artist

Ezra Rose: Interior art

Kanesha Bryant: Interior art

Katrin Dirim: Interior art

Jaqueline Florencio: Cover art

Lyla Fujiwara: Developmental editor https://www.jarofeyes.com

Mary Verhoeven: Interior art

Omar Ramadan-Santiago: Cultural consultant

Rae Nedjadi: Developmental editor https://temporalhiccup.itch.io

Rue Dickey: @ilananight Copy editor

Sean D’souza: World-builder & writer https://linktr.ee/seandsouzax

Shan Bennion: Interior art

Thalie Shelen: Interior art

(art by Shan again! @anonbeadraws)

Thanks for reading! The Kickstarter is live through May 29th. Back it now!